


Cabeswater Cafe

by BookRaven24



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish is Bad at Feelings, Angst, Awkward Adam, Coffee, Cuties, Dorks, Flirting, Fluff, Henry Cheng (eventually), Hot Chocolate, M/M, Noah wears flower crowns and skateboards, Protective Ronon, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Towel whip fights, Tumblr Prompt, adam gets sick, barista ronan, bluesy - Freeform, coffee shop AU, feelings are hard, happiness, might add other characters and tags if I continue, pynch - Freeform, who knows what else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:49:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookRaven24/pseuds/BookRaven24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Intent, interviews, meetings, proper brain function, all fled from his head like people from a burning building when he laid eyes on the cashier."<br/>The lame coffee shop AU you never knew you wanted...<br/>A continuing series of short fluffy chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conversations Missing Their Link

**Author's Note:**

> This is super short n small  
> If there's interesting maybe I'll continue it. Idk it just popped into my head, I have a vague idea of where I could go with it.  
> Disclaimer: Maggie Stiefvater owns the characters.  
> \- Kira  
> Edit: Looks like I'm continuing this. Updates will be super intermittent, and I have no real plot outline for this, but it's gonna be fluffy, and hopefully some kind of storyline will develop as I write.   
> Apologies for the name change, for those who subscribed to this.

Adam couldn’t feel his fingers. He couldn’t feel his fingers, the sun was too bright, and his nose was really fucking cold.  
He was running on mayyybe four hours of sleep, he had a meeting in an hour, and he just wanted to be warm.  
He also wanted a coffee, but coffee tended to upset his stomach; with an interview this important looming over him, he couldn’t afford to be distracted.  
The city of Washington was an overwhelmingly large, busy place; full of cars, sunshine, and cold. The streets at this time of morning were packed, but the cafe Adam ducked into was quiet. His intent was to buy a small hot chocolate, something to warm his fingers while he walked.   
Intent, interviews, meetings, proper brain function, all fled from his head like people from a burning building when he laid eyes on the cashier.  
Maybe he was on fire. Certainly his face was.  
The barista was tall, broad shouldered but still slim. A black, knotted tattoo curled out of his low necked black sweater. He had a shaved head and proud roman nose. Adam thought he might die when the boy’s eyes met his own. Forget fire, he was drowning in an angry blue ocean.  
“What can I get you?”   
Adam wanted to cry. That was definitely an Irish accent. He thought he might orgasm just from the sound of the barista’s voice.   
The barista who smirked, which might be the hottest thing adam had ever seen.  
“Uh….” Adam was fully aware that A) he was staring, and B) a response was required and C) he couldn’t seem to form understandable language.  
“A small hot chocolate?” It came out as a question. Adam thanked his brain silently, grateful that it had finally kicked in.   
“You want some whipping cream on that?” The barista asked, managing to make the question suggestive. His name tag read Ronan in blocky lettering.  
Adam blushed and shook his head. Whipping cream wasn’t something he could afford.  
“Two fifty then please.” Adam handed over the money, sort of wishing Ronan would just stop speaking. His voice was dangerous.   
Their fingers brushed around the coins. Adam shivered, not from the cold.

Adam moved to the end of the counter to wait while Ronan made his drink. The small cafe smelled like coffee beans and egg sandwiches. It was lit by antique chandeliers hanging from the wooden roof beams, and paintings hung on its walls. Small tables and leather cushioned chairs dotted the cherrywood floor. It was quaint and atmospheric, the perfect place for artists and writers to congregate.  
“Here’s your order.” Ronan slid a large to go cup across the wooden counter, that wicked smirk still in place.  
“I asked for a small?” Adam winced internally. Henriettan accent was plastered all over the question.   
Ronan raised a single black eyebrow. “You looked cold. Have a nice day.” He placed a single flirty wink at the end of the sentence, then turned to another customer.  
Adam picked his jaw off the floor, snatched his hot chocolate and fled the coffee shop, cheeks burning. 

For the rest of the day, he stewed over his absolute awkwardness and lack of flirting ability. He also resolved to head back to that coffee shop at some point.


	2. Ronan's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes, Ronan mused, Gansey and his employees felt more like a family than business partners."  
> The first chapter but from Ronan's perspective. Plus everyone gets a mention in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXAMS ARE OVER  
> 'Does happy dance'  
> I'M FREEEEEEEEEE  
> Also I've been listening to wayyy too much G Eazy (Rap. Gangster rap.)  
> This is short. They're all short. But I have a vague idea of where I'm going with this so that's good.  
> No promises in terms of updates though. I am a girl with not enough time.  
> Disclaimer: Maggie Stiefvater owns the characters.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Cabeswater Cafe was boring on most days days and hell on bad ones. But it had charm, and Ronan had a running bet with the owner, so work continued.

(The owner was his best friend, who’d bought the cafe for something to do. Ronan had mocked him, saying he didn’t know how to work, to which Gansey had replied, “And you do?” Which led to a bet. One year of successful service at the cafe, without Ronan making a customer so mad they left, and then Ronan got to choose any reward he desired. Anything. It wasn’t a bet he could pass up.)  
“Ro, I’m heading out, Gansey’s somewhere, I’ll see you tonight!” Blue called as she bustled out the door, her knitted patchwork of a coat flapping behind her. Ronan didn’t even have time to call out a “goodbye Maggot!” before the door was swinging shut.  
He sighed. The cafe was practically empty. He would never admit it to Blue, but it was nice to have her company on slow days. The diminutive college student was easy to rile and quick with her wit.  
Unlike Noah, the other employee. He was fun in his own way. Quiet, but full of mischief, he was constantly game to prank Gansey with horribly sugary coffee or salty cookies.  
Sometimes, Ronan mused, Gansey and his employees felt more like a family than business partners.  
“Gansey where are you?” Ronan yelled, directing his voice through the door to the back of the cafe. His words echoed around the break room and bounced off the closed door to the office.  
“Paper work!” A muffled shout responded.  
Ronan thanked god silently that Gansey got that responsibility. Ronan enjoyed preparing food and drinks. He even sometimes enjoyed serving customers. It was nice to connect with such a wide variety of people. He did not, in any way, enjoy paperwork.

The door chimed open, shaking Ronan into the present and out of his thoughts.

He had to do a double take of the person who walked into the shop. Despite being religious, Ronan couldn’t say he had much belief in angels. But the boy who entered the cafe that Thursday morning couldn’t have been anything else.  
Choppily cut sandy hair hung into wide blue eyes, sharp cheekbones slid back from a proud nose, thin, elegant lips parted around a quiet breath. Tanned skin, broad shoulders, large arms hidden by a thin jacket, long slender hands just leaving coat pockets, a rosy blush, there was too much for Ronan to look at.  
Oh this kid looked delicious.  
Ronan fixed his standard smirk onto his face, meeting the boy’s eyes. He waited till the blonde was standing in front of the counter, before asking him what he wanted. He emphasized his accent just a little bit, and was rewarded with an even deeper blush from the beautiful boy.  
The customer stared at him for a few moments, similar to a deer in the headlights of a car.  
“Uh,” the single syllable was followed by a lengthy pause as the blonde appeared to struggle with his words. “A small hot chocolate?”  
Ronan had to fight to keep his smirk in place. A southern accent practically dripped off the other boy’s tongue, smooth and low. It was painfully sexy.  
“You want some whipping cream on that?” Ronan raised one eyebrow to make sure the poor frazzled male caught the suggestion in his words.  
The boy blushed and shook his head. Ronan restrained his lips so they wouldn’t twitch.  
“Two fifty then please.”  
Their fingers brushed around the coins, making Ronan shiver slightly.  
Ronan re-centered himself by retreating to make the warm drink. As he boiled water and reached for a to go up, he remembered the boy’s thin jacket and chapped hands.  
Gansey wouldn’t care. He grabbed a large cup and made the drink, hands going through the familiar movements quickly and efficiently.  
This was his favorite part of working at the coffee shop. The methodical process of making a good beverage was extremely satisfying to Ronan. Some nights he even stayed late to experiment with adding different spices or flavours to the recipes.  
“Here’s your order,” he said, sidling up to the counter and sliding the cup across the wood.  
He watched a crease appear between the blonde’s eyebrows. “I asked for a small?”  
There was that gorgeous accent again.  
Ronan raised a single eyebrow, surprised that the boy would bring it up. Normally people would just assume it was a mistake, take the good luck and leave.  
“You looked cold. Have a nice day.” He winked, then turned to a new customer.

“Ronan, you’ve been staring into your latte for fifteen minutes. What the hell could you possibly be daydreaming about?” Blue was eying him suspiciously.  
The employees of Cabeswater Cafe were about to enjoy their weekly movie night. Blue and Ronan were waiting for Gansey to finish his paperwork so they could go pick up Noah from his night class.  
“Does it have anything to do with that blonde boy who was in earlier?” Gansey walked out of his office, scarf in place and Camaro keys in hand.  
“You know old man, you’re way too observant for your own good.” Ronan remarked dryly.  
Blue and Gansey just laughed at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beans. I love them all.  
> Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought. Critiques are welcome. I seriously run on your guyses feedback.  
> Much love  
> \- Kira


	3. Break Room Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam gets the flu. Ronan stops being nice, and starts being stubborn.  
> Or  
> I just wanted to write about Ronan going all caring on Adam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shalom  
> I'm on holiday in Israel right now, visiting my grandparents wooooo.  
> My boyfriend basically broke up with me last night so I'm channeling my pain into writing fanfiction...  
> Anyway. I'm not sure where this is going. But at least I'm updating right?  
> I'm really sorry about the lack of indents, they're not carrying over to ao3 when I post the chapter.  
> Thanks for reading guys, lotsa love <3  
> Kira

Adam came into Cabeswater Cafe twice in the next week and a half. On one occasion, a witty, short girl with spiky tufts of black, blue, and green hair took his order. He fought down disappointment, denying that he was hoping for the flirtatious Irishman.  
To his (stifled) pleasure, it was a smirking Ronan that delivered his latte, (because coffee was necessary on three hours of sleep, upset stomach or no) complete with a foam heart on top. He must have been in the kitchen when the waitress took his order.

Ronan was gracious with Adam’s weak attempts at flirting, smoothly guiding him through small talk and taking every opportunity to make him blush.  
Adam was eternally frustrated by his lack of social grace. Sure, he hadn't had occasion to flirt with anyone in almost a year, but he shouldn't be this rusty. It's just, something about those burning blue eyes completely stole rational thought from his head.

The fourth time Adam talked to Ronan, things went less smoothly. Adam wasn't even in the café, merely racing past it on his way to work. He was late, having woken up with a fever and an aching throat. He was at negative ten on the energy scale, but he couldn't afford to miss work.  
Adam worked at a privately owned health clinic several blocks from Cabeswater Cafe. He was still relatively low in the pecking order, just barely above an intern. He was working as a nurse, and taking a yearlong break from med school due to insufficient funds. He liked working at the clinic. There were a lot of parents bringing small children in, and senior patients getting treatment for the incurable problem of getting old. The staff was nice, and the resident doctor was very willing to teach him things.  
Next year Adam would return to school, and then he’d do his time as an intern at Washington General Hospital. But for now, he made enough money to get by, as well as save, and he was doing what he loved.  
And yes he knew it was stupid to work sick, but he was just going to do paperwork. He could manage that much, if he popped some tylenol to bring his fever down.

His plans were derailed when he literally bumped into Ronan during his mad dash past the cafe. He was tired, fuzzy headed, and not watching where he was going. Then, he was flat on his ass from barreling straight into a tall, muscled person.  
“What the fu- oh.” He heard, in that lovely Irish accent.  
He shook his head, trying to clear it. The fall had stunned him slightly. A hand made it’s way into his field of vision.  
“Jesus Adam, you need to watch where you’re going.”  
Adam took the hand, and was yanked up face to face with Ronan. He blinked into those blue eyes.  
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m kind of late for work so I was in a hurry…” Adam said sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.  
“Are you okay? You look a little sick.” Ronan remarked, forehead wrinkling in a frown.  
“Woke up feeling crappy. I think I’m getting a flu. I didn’t know it was so bad you could see it though.” Adam admitted.  
“And you’re still going to work?” Ronan looked at him disbelievingly.  
“My apartment doesn’t have the best heating system. I’ll be better off in the office.”  
Ronan’s face did an odd thing, then. He set his chin and lowered his brows slightly. Adam watched him go from gracious and attractive to mulishly stubborn in the space of ten seconds.  
“Call in sick. You look dead on your feet and I refuse to let you go to work like that.” Ronan informed him matter-of-factly.  
“Excuse me?” Adam muttered disbelievingly. “You barely know me.”  
“Look Adam, we can stand out here and argue about it, or you can come in, lie down on the break room couch, and let me take care of you for the rest of the day. I’ve been really nice to you up till now because you’re cute and I didn’t want to scare you away, but I’m actually an asshole, and I’d rather not have to bully you into this.”  
Adam stared at him.  
“I can, and will, carry you in there. You’re sick, and sick people need rest. So rest is what you’re gonna get.” Ronan glared at him. Adam stared in disbelief back.  
The threat sounded real though, so Adam meekly walked into the cafe.  
He supposed his boss wouldn’t kill him if he took one sick day. And his head was starting to pound pretty bad.  
To this day, he wasn’t 100% sure what made him go along with Ronan. Maybe it was the way he remembered Adam’s name, or the way there was genuine worry in his eyes. 

Ronan ushered Adam gently behind the Cafe’s counter. The place was empty.  
“I was just unlocking when you ran into me, we won’t actually be open for another hour.” Ronan informed him. He guided Adam towards two doors. The left one, from what Adam could see, led into a kitchen. He was steered through the one on the right by a warm hand on his back.  
It led into a small break room, with a huge brown couch, two overstuffed olive colored chairs, a coffee table, and shelves filled with miscellaneous items. There was a broken food processor, several pottery mugs lacking handles, a small stone statue of a horse, and large quantities of thick books, overflowing with bits of paper. Two other doors opened off the cozy room, one made of glass, with ‘Gansey’s Special Forest’ painted neatly on it in green. The other door was wood, but it was ajar, and Adam could see a mirror and a sink inside the small room beyond it.  
Ronan pointed imperiously to the couch.  
“Lie down, and don’t get up. Do you have a cellphone to call your boss?”  
Adam nodded, and picked his way around the coffee table to settle on the couch. He pulled out his phone, and looked up to see Ronan glaring disapprovingly at him.  
“I said lie down. Not sit.”  
“Bossy, aren’t you?” Adam retorted, barely stemming the bite of annoyance in his tone. He leaned down to unlace his dirty running shoes, then pulled his legs up and lay down, heading coming to rest on one of the several small pillows strewn across the couch.  
“Better?” He asked his captor.  
Ronan replied with a smirk, then turned and walked back into the cafe.  
Adam called his boss, who was quite fine with him taking a sick day.  
“You work so tirelessly Adam, I was a bit worried that you’d never rest.” The doctor informed him.  
Ten minutes after he finished his phone call, Ronan returned, with a small tray in hand. He placed it on the coffee table, revealing a steaming bowl of soup, a mug of tea, and a box of tissues.  
Adam firmly ignored the part of his brain that found this caring behavior incredibly adorable.  
“I don’t know if you have an appetite, but this is carrot-ginger soup, very healthy. The tea is a concoction from the Magg-, Blue’s mom, it’s supposed to help with flus. I tried it and didn’t die, so it should be alright.” Ronan informed him as he walked to one of the shelves and grabbed a blanket.  
Adam thought he’d been hiding his shivering well, but apparently not. “Who’s Blue?” He asked.  
“The short, feisty waitress you met the other day. She’s a pain in the ass.” Ronan industriously tucked the blanket over Adam, who industriously ignored the feeling of strong but gentle hands brushing against his feverish body.  
“Will your boss or anyone else mind that I’m here?” Adam asked worriedly, then coughed.  
“It’s gonna be slow today, so I’m the only one working. But no one would mind anyway. Now shut up and drink your tea.” Ronan headed towards the door again, but stopped just short. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to yell, even if I’m with a customer.”  
Before Adam could reply, he was gone.  
The tea was surprisingly good, but Adam’s eyelids began to droop before he got to trying the soup.  
The last thing he saw before the gentle tug of sleep pulled him down, was Ronan leaning against the break room door, gazing at him with unreadable eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter after this is in progress, it's already partly written but I make no promises as to when it'll be done.  
> Drop me a comment, lemme know what you thought or even how your day was, or rant about your problems so I feel less terrible about mine :3 aha jokes.  
> Come find me on tumblr if you like poetry = kira-inpoetry  
> xoxo  
> Kira


	4. Moral High Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""Gansey’s head popped around the kitchen door.  
>  “Ronan, why is the cute blonde you’re always flirting with sleeping on my couch?” He asked, by way of hello.  
>  “Excuse me? Your couch? That is a communally owned couch, and god knows we all spend a fuck of a lot more time on it than you do.”"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey  
> I'm constantly worrying that everyone is OOC, but I figure, they're all in their twenties now, and there's no magic in their lives, so of course they'd be a bit different.   
> It's midnight where I am. Why am I writing fanfiction right now...  
> Anyway I hope you like this chapter. I hope it's not inconsistent or anything. We'll see Adam's pov next time I get around to updating :)  
> Thanks for sticking with me, and also getting this fic to a hundred kudos. I love you guys  
> Disclaimer: Maggies Stiefvater owns The Raven Cycle and these wonderful characters.

Ronan leaned against the break room door and gazed in at the sleeping boy. Adam’s face was flushed with fever, his lips parted as he breathed. His hair was a messy, dust colored tangle on the pillow below his head.  
It was a complete mystery to Ronan as to how Adam had grown on him so quickly. He’d seen him what, four times? Flirted casually with him? Fuck, he didn’t even know where the kid was from. And yet, he was undeniably drawn to Adam. He had a strong urge to protect the slightly shy boy, a desire that he normally reserved for animals, Gansey, and his younger brother.   
Whatever the reason for his sudden infatuation, at least Adam seemed to reciprocate his feelings. The blushing, the clumsy flirting, it was incredibly endearing.  
Ronan scoffed quietly at himself. He was spending too much time with Gansey, starting to get soft. He’d actually just used the word endearing in his own head.  
Enough thinking, he thought to himself, and went to finish prepping the cafe for opening. 

As predicted, it was a slow day, and only the occasional hungover student wandered in for a panini and cup of coffee. Adam was still asleep when the day began to edge into afternoon. If Ronan wasn’t prepping food or cleaning, he came into the quiet break room to check on his patient. He’d lay a hand on Adam’s tanned forehead to check his fever, and make sure he had enough blankets, then allow himself to admire his attractive features before going back into the Cafe. He realised that he was courting the dangerous edge of actual feelings, but that drawling accent and freckled blush encouraged him not to care.

Around four-thirty, Ronan was in the kitchen, organizing the spices and teas, when a noise in the break room startled him from his thoughts. It was a commonly heard sound, the sound a book made when Gansey dropped it onto the thick carpeted floor near his office.   
Ronan turned to head for the break room, wondering how this sound was being made without a Gansey to make it, when Gansey’s head popped around the kitchen door.  
“Ronan, why is the cute blonde you’re always flirting with sleeping on my couch?” He asked, by way of hello.  
“Excuse me? Your couch? That is a communally owned couch, and god knows we all spend a fuck of a lot more time on it than you do.” Ronan replied, affronted, but blinking with surprise at Gansey’s sudden materialization.   
“Fine, our couch. The cute blonde?”   
Ronan gave Gansey an irritated look. Adam was not cute. Well he was, but not Gansey’s to call cute. “He’s sick, and wanted to go to work because his apartment didn’t have good heating. I didn’t let him.” Ronan informed his best friend, chin jutting out.  
“You didn’t- nevermind I don’t want to know. It’s just like you, kidnapping innocent boys off the street and forcing them to take naps in break rooms. I’m only here because I left an important book in my office.” Gansey said, raising said book as if to prove his claim. It looked a bit dejected, with a ripped cover and some scrunched up pages. This probably wasn’t the first time Gansey had dropped it on the floor.  
“I did not kidnap him. He came willingly. Besides, you practically blackmailed me into this job so you can’t say shit. Moral high ground is not where you belong.” Ronan said snidely.  
“I did not-”   
“Anyway. Is it okay if Adam sleeps in the break room, oh Mr. Mighty Bossman?” Ronan asked mockingly.  
Gansey did a surprising thing then. He smirked. “It’s fine. Tell him he can hang out here anytime. If he’s inspiring your protective instinct I’m sure he’s worth keeping around.”   
Ronan began to sputter and swear with affront, sounding a bit like an angry teakettle. Before his slurs could string themselves into actual insults, the door was swinging shut behind Gansey.   
Ronan let out a long sigh. He loved Gansey, but he was a pain in the ass. He went back to his organizing. 

Adam wandered out of the break room at 6:15 with his hair sticking up in all directions. Ronan had been switching the sign over to closed and sweeping the floor, but he paused his cleaning and headed over to his patient.  
“How’re you feeling?” He asked. Adam’s blue eyes looked clear, but his face was still a bit flushed.  
“My head feels better, and I don’t feel as tired. I think I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Adam’s voice was gravelly from sleep, but he gave Ronan a shy smile. “I should head home though, you’ve already done so much for me and I don’t want to keep you here late.”   
Ronan mentally debated asking Adam to dinner, but figured that going home and sleeping would be better for Adam, Ronan’s selfish desire to spend more time with the boy aside.   
“Can I drive you home? It’s cold out there and you’ll just get sicker.” Ronan asked, leaning his hip on the serving counter.   
“No you’ve already done so much, I’ll be fine, really.” Adam’s eyes were on the floor. Ronan didn’t get why he was being stubborn about this.   
“I’ve spent all day taking care of you, I’m not gonna watch you get sick again. Grab your coat. I can finish closing after.” Ronan informed Adam, and went to get his keys.  
Adam gave a long sigh, but complied.   
Once in the car, Ronan cranked the BMW’s heat to maximum and turned the music volume to a low hum. Adam didn’t say much, just stared out the window. Despite having slept all day, he looked worn out. Ronan had noticed that, every time he came by the cafe. The permanent state of faded exhaustion that Adam seemed to exist in.   
“Where to?” He asked, turning out of his parking spot.  
Adam rattled off an address. Ronan couldn’t see much of his face. It was dark, and the streetlights only showed jawlines and the tips of eyelashes.   
They drove in silence for a minute. The evening felt still and slow, the quiet comfortable. Ronan could almost feel the gers in Adam’s head turning he was so lost in his thoughts.  
“Thank you for taking care of me today. You didn’t have to do that.” Adam finally said, accent carefully clipped off.  
“Why do you do that?” Ronan asked, ignoring the thanks.  
“What?” Adam asked, baffled.  
“Your accent. You hide it.”  
“Oh. Um, old habit I guess.” Adam’s tone flattened at the question.   
Ronan didn’t push. He recognized the voice someone used when they were brushing a sore spot in their memory. He used it all the time.  
“I did it because I wanted to. Not because I had to.” He said quietly.   
Adam turned towards him, opening his mouth to ask what Ronan meant, before he remembered his original statement.   
He gave a nod of acknowledgement and sat back in his seat. That same comfortable silence settled around them once again. 

Ronan pulled up in front of a faded brownstone apartment building with ivy crawling across the front. It’s entrance was well lit, and glowing windows warmed the cold brick.   
As Adam moved to open the door, Ronan spoke.  
“Gansey stopped by while you were asleep. He said you were welcome anytime so if you get sick again I’m dragging your overworked ass back onto that couch.” Ronan informed Adam, tone carefully light.   
A flash of teeth in a sleepy smile was caught in the streetlight, and Adam laid a long-fingered hand against Ronan’s arm. Then with a murmured goodnight, he was out onto the street in a swirl of cool city air.  
Ronan drove back to the cafe with his music still turned down, arm tingling, lips twitching in a denied smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun.  
> I see angst in the future. And Blue.  
> Possible cute skateboarder! Noah who wears flower crowns and daydrinks?   
> We'll see. Give me oneshot requests and ideas for this fic.  
> Hope you all have wonderful days! Come visit me on tumblr and send me asks because I'm lonely hah.  
> xoxoxoxo  
> \- Kira


	5. Noah Isn't Into That Kinky Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noah galloped over and flung an arm around Gansey’s waste. “A little thing like me could never break that door, it’s custom made! Don’t worry dad, I know my own strength.”  
> 
> 
> Gansey reddened and muttered “don’t call me dad,” but didn’t push Noah away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm not dead.  
> Just about to graduate though, so life is literally fucking insane, and I haven't had a lot of time for anything, including writing. I've never promised regular updates on this thing, but I'm still sorry it's been so long, and also sorry to say that it may be another month or two or more before I update again. But it also may be next week, who knows.  
> Thanks for sticking with this weird little story, I love you guys and your continued support.  
> Here's Noah! And some other stuff you guys may not like......

“ROOOOOONAN,” was the melodious screech that accompanied the cafe door smashing open.  
Ronan winced as the glass rattled.  


“Noah, if you break the door I’m making you pay for it,” Gansey didn’t look up from wiping the serving counter.  


Noah galloped over and flung an arm around Gansey’s waste. “A little thing like me could never break that door, it’s custom made! Don’t worry dad, I know my own strength.”  


Gansey reddened and muttered “don’t call me dad,” but didn’t push Noah away.  
Noah looked like he’d just popped off the cover of a teen magazine. A flower crown was perched messily in his platinum hair. His hollow cheeks were rosy from the winter wind, and his blueish birthmark was evident among his freckles. His brown eyes matched his wooly sweater, and were accented by his purple infinity scarf.  


Acid washed jeans with ripped knees, and paint-splattered white sneakers completed his gay-grunge look. His ever present skateboard was tucked under the arm not wrapped around Gansey.  


“Why did you come through the door yelling my name like a fucking banshee?” Ronan asked as he placed a hot chocolate on the counter Gansey had been wiping.  


Noah beamed at him as he let go of Gansey to snag the sugary drink. “Blue told me last night that there’s a guyyyyyyyyyy you’ve been seeing.” He dragged the y out as long as possible, winking lasciviously at his Irish friend.  


Gansey took one look at the two boys and headed for his office.  


Ronan didn’t deign to respond to Noah, instead snagging Gansey’s discarded cleaning rag. He straightened it out and neatly twirled it between two hands before snapping it out and whipping Noah in the ass. Noah yelped and danced away, laughing.  


“Someone is touchy! Ouch stop that I’m not into that kinky shit!” Noah protested as Ronan chased him around the shop with his towel whip. Ronan’s deadpan face was replaced with a smile of manic glee as Noah continued to giggle and yelp.  


Their roughhousing was interrupted as the cafe door swung open with a jangle. Both boys froze, Ronan’s smile melting into a look of horror.  


Adam took in the tableau before him, obviously perplexed at the limp towel hanging from Ronan’s hand and Noah frozen in a karate ready position.  


“Am I interrupting something?” He asked.  


“No nothing at all! You must be Adam.” Noah said quickly, glee sneaking onto his youthful face. One look at Ronan had told him who the customer must be. “Ronan has told us alllll about you.”  


Ronan, for his part, shot Noah possibly the most poisonous glare in existence and stalked into the kitchen. Whatever Noah did now wasn’t something he could prevent.  


He could hear Noah and Adam strike up a conversation at the front of the shop, but decided quickly he simply didn’t want to know what outrageous things Noah was bound to say about him. Ronan turned up the radio, and began to slice vegetables for the various wraps and sandwiches the cafe served. He sang along to some stupid pop hit that was so overplayed even he knew the lyrics, and pretended he wasn’t obsessing over Adam’s windblown hair and tentative smile as he’d walked into the cafe.  


Dating and relationships had always been strange for Ronan. He’d long ago stopped struggling with his sexuality and religion. His problem was that he was hesitant to open himself to anyone, but when he did, it was all or nothing, ride or die. There was no casual sex, or dating multiple people. He’d only really been with one person, someone so damaged he’d left invisible scars all over Ronan’s life and a grief so deep it was not even acknowledged. Since Kavinsky, gone years ago, Ronan hadn’t so much as blinked at the many men and women who attempted to get him to go out with them.  


What Ronan couldn’t figure out was why Adam was different. Maybe it was the quiet, razor sharp intellect he possessed when he stopped being flustered, or maybe the steel hidden in his eyes. A lot of it was the weariness he wore like a blanket, and the stillness he wrapped around him like armour. Ronan was quickly learning that Adam didn’t have a lot to laugh about in his life, and that every smile should be treasured. On the days that Ronan got Adam to really laugh, he felt a rush greater even than he used find street racing K’s pack of wolves. It was becoming a daily goal for him, and that was terrifying.  


As Ronan julienned carrots, he felt doubt begin to bubble like hot oil in his chest, angry and volatile. He barely knew Adam. Friendship was an essential basis for a relationship, and the way his feelings were going, he’d been moving too fast. He needed to back off the flirting with Adam. I mean, the man hadn’t even met Gansey or Henry yet. Panic was icy water poured into the bubbling oil, causing an explosion somewhere in Ronan that closed his throat and made him pause in his chopping. Noah and Adam were still talking in the front of the store, but it wouldn’t be long before one or the other came to find him. Ronan felt like a caged animal.  


“Why are you hiding in here?” Adam asked as he wandered into the back, gazing around the kitchen. He’d never come into that part of the cafe before, and curiosity radiated off him.  


“Trying to get away from the amount of fucking gayness you and Noah were giving off,” Ronan snapped. He didn’t mean to snap. Or maybe he did. Ronan couldn’t even tell anymore.  


Adam’s eyes hardened. “Sorry, didn’t realise you, of all people, would be allergic to gayness.” His tone went from familiar to caustic as fast as Ronan’s had.  


“And what in hell do you actually know about me? Huh?” He spat, the oil in his chest spilling over to burn and bubble up to his lips.  


“I know now that you apparently throw random bitch fits for no reason.” Adam hissed. “No need to be such an asshole, Jesus Christ. I just came to say hello.” His accent grew thick around the words in his anger, a sneer twisting his features.  


“Oh fuck you Parrish, go be a drama queen somewhere else.”  


Adam stalked out of the kitchen, and for the second time that day, the cafe door slammed so hard the glass rattled.  


Noah came into the kitchen a second later, no longer smiling brightly. Sometimes he showed his age alarmingly, despite his youthful dress and attitude. His eyes were weary and sad as he took in Ronan by the counter, poised in fight or flight, a snarl frozen on his face.  


“Honestly Ronan?” He said.  


“Fuck off Czerny,” Ronan swore, and stormed out of the kitchen, out the back door, and into the BMW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I came back to this fic, and read through my past couple chapters, I realized the fluff level was almost nauseating, to the point of being OOC. I just reread TRC, and realized some important things about Ronan and the other characters, so this chapter kind of marks a change in the mood of this fic, from something unrealistic and cottoncandylike, to something a bit more honest and in character, at least I hope. There will still be lots of fluff though! Just with some emotion mixed in.  
> Gotta have those feels!  
> Annnyway please let me know what you think, feel free to scream or give suggestions, anything is welcome.  
> All the love  
> Kira

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment letting you know what you thought? They really do mean a lot to me.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> \- Kira  
> 


End file.
